


thunder comes after

by calciseptine



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 16:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8630695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calciseptine/pseuds/calciseptine
Summary: "Touch me," Victor demands.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i just want everyone to know that faorism tried to keep me on track but... well, keeping me on track is really, really, _really_ difficult. ur the best waifu, i appreciate all you do for me. ♥

victor is naked on the linen sheets of his enormous bed, a lean and pale stretch of toned muscle, tight sinew, and long bone. yuuri is kneeling between victor's thighs, still dressed in a flimsy white t-shirt and a pair cotton boxer-briefs. his glasses have slipped down his nose, but he can still clearly see the way victor smiles—the way he rolls his hips—the way the muscles in his stomach flex. yuuri presses a hand over his mouth but it does nothing to stifle the needy whine that crawls out of his throat.

"well?" victor purrs, eyes half-lidded. "do you just want to watch?"

when yuuri shakes his head, victor's smile merely grows; then he lifts one powerful leg and throws it over yuuri's shoulder. yuuri's spine curves to accommodate the movement. the bend of victor's knee fits perfectly over the swell of yuuri's trapezius and his blunt patella presses gently against yuuri's cheek. victor scoots forward a little—lifts his hips—wriggles up into yuuri's lap.

"oh," yuuri gasps, hand falling away from his lips. victor is heavier than yuuri might have expected, but the weight is... grounding.

"touch me," victor demands.

yuuri's left hand rises and curls around the meat of victor's thigh while his right lands hesitantly at victor's temple. victor turns his head and presses a reassuring kiss to the center of yuuri's palm; then he bites at yuuri's thumb and laughs, light and breathy, when yuuri says his name—

" _victor!_ "

like a reprimand.

"sorry," says victor.

he does not sound sorry.

"behave," yuuri says, finding his voice; victor's tease has given him a measure of familiarity, and courage. he pushes the pad of his thumb against the swell of victor's bottom lip and waits until victor's eyes begin to flutter shut, before he trails his fingers down victor's neck,

over his collarbones,  
his chest,  
his ribs,

along the edge of his abdomen,  
his hipbone,

and stops.

"tell me what you want," yuuri whispers. victor has always been ridiculously gorgeous, both on the ice and off, but it is not his beauty that makes him difficult to touch; it is his vulnerability, the gentleness he has quietly exposed during their time together. yuuri knows that victor loves him—knows that victor trusts him—yet doubt born of inexperience overwhelms him. his fingers skirt victor's cock, flushed red and slick at the tip, and victor whines,

" _touch me!_ "

so pitifully that yuuri can do nothing else. 

yuuri fumbles a little. he is unused to the act and the angle. he squeezes and twists and pulls; he goes fast; he goes slow. victor's breath turns shallow and uneven, interrupted by delicate gasps that make his mouth tremble and his eyelashes quiver. yuuri watches in fascination at the details of victor's pleasure: 

the clutch of his hands on the loose sheets.  
the heave of his chest as he fights for air.  
the flex of his abdomen when he tries to push deeper into yuuri's fist.  
the constriction of his throat around a dry swallow. 

"oh," victor gasps, over and over and over. "oh—yuuri—i want—will you—god, of course you're good at this, why wouldn't you be good at this, you— _oooooh._ " 

his come is thick and pearly. it spills over yuuri's rough fingers and catches on the calluses. victor's body twists—tightens—and his expressive mouth curls into a soundless oval of shock. he is silent in his ecstasy, which is as much of a surprise as it is not. 

"fuck," yuuri curses. "victor, you're—" 

there are beads of sweat against victor's silver hairline. they glisten like stars in the dim lamplight, and they burst when victor runs a careless hand through the mess of his fringe. still, yuuri cannot fault the action when it exposes both of victor's bright blue eyes. there is something mischievous and playful in victor's expression; yet before yuuri can figure it out, victor shifts purposefully in the cradle of yuuri's lap.

yuuri whimpers and clutches at victor's narrow hips.

"now," victor says as a smug and sated grin blooms on his face. "how about i watch you?"

.


End file.
